For Angie
by CobaltRose96
Summary: Natara Fallon has a wonderful husband and a beautiful young daughter, Angela. Both her and Mal think they're the luckiest people in California. But when Angela gets a diagnosis that will change their lives, they know they must stay strong. For Angie.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! :D This is my second fanfiction, and it will probably be incredibly sucky as I am writing this out of pure boredom brought on by the half term. Enjoy! **

Chapter 1

Angela Marie Fallon grinned up at her parents and gurgled happily. One half of her face was covered in flour, like stage make up, and more flour was scattered about the floor around her. Her mother, Special Agent Natara Fallon just stared, her mouth agape in horror. Her father, Detective Mal Fallon, began to chuckle but quickly covered it with a cough when his wife turned a steely glare on him.

"Look, Mal! Look at this mess!," she spluttered, sweeping her arm outwards at the carnage, "who's going to clean this up? I swear, she's just like you, so mischievous!"

All the while her daughter continued to grin up at her, her blue eyes sparkling.

Mal sniggered again, not bothering to cover it this time, before stepping forward and scooping his daughter up into his arms. She squawked happily and rubbed her starfish hands on her father's face, giving him his own flour makeover.

"I just think your old mom needs to lighten up, hey Angie? Am I right?" Mal smirked.

"Mal! I think you're forgetting the total carnage she's made of the kitchen! Don't encourage her!"

"Aw, come on! She's 14 months old, she doesn't know what she's done is wrong."

But the sly smirk plastered across her chubby-cheeked face said otherwise.

Natara sighed, but then smiled at her daughter. She could never stay mad at Angela. She was the perfect mix of her and Mal. She had her dark skin and hair, but Mals' eyes and nose. She had been named after Mals' late mother. She was a mix of her and Mals' personalities too. She was clearly very intelligent, already toddling around and able to speak a handful of words, but, like Mal, was also mischievous and light-hearted.

Natara took Angela from Mal and bounced her up and down in her arms, making sure her face stayed well away from her tiny hands, which were still coated in flour.

"Mama!"

"Yeah, Mama needs to go clean you up, I think. Bath time!"

"No!" Angela shrieked, shaking her head.

"Yes!" Natara turned to her husband, "Mal, could you please clean this up?"

Mal huffed and rolled his eyes, but agreed.

"You be good for your Mama now, ok?" Mal said, ruffling his daughter's downy baby hair.

"I'll be lucky…" Natara said, and Angela giggled.

**30 minutes later **

With both the kitchen and Angela cleaned up, the Fallon family sat down in the living room to watch TV, well, try to, since Angela always seemed to keep them distracted.

"Angie! Don't chew that!" Natara said, standing up to take the Wii remote from her daughter, which she had wedged firmly in her mouth.

"Eugh. I'm not using that again…." Mal said, as his wife held up the controller and attempted to wipe it clean of baby drool.

"You never use it anyway! You tried it once and then got frustrated because I beat you in every game of table tennis!" Natara grinned.

"Pfft, yeah. I just let you win."

"Sure Mal, sure." Natara said, still grinning.

Angie, not bothered by the loss of the Wii remote, got to her feet and began to toddle across the living room, trying to find something else to destroy or chew on, or both.

"Look, she never stays still! It doesn't help that you encourage her!"

"I don't _encourage _her! I just think it's totally cute!"

Natara rolled her eyes but, in all honesty, _she _thought it was cute too.

Natara looked at her daughter, and then at her husband, and smiled. It was perfect. Finally, after years of struggle, heartbreak and sadness, she had the wonderful husband and the beautiful child she had always dreamt of. She had a job that she loved. Sure, it was dangerous, but she was making a difference, saving lives, and that made the danger worthwhile. She loved motherhood even more. She loved waking up every morning to see the life her and Mal had created smiling up at her, happy and loved and nurtured. Sometimes she looked at her little family and felt like her heart would burst from the sheer amount of love she held for her husband and her child. When she saw Mal looking at her and Angie, she knew that he felt the same.

Mal was looking at her now, but in a quizzical way, one eyebrow cocked.

"You okay? You look like you're about to burst into tears any minute."

Natara realised that she was, but they were happy tears.

"Yeah, I'm just so happy. I never thought I would end up having such a wonderful life."

"Mrs Fallon, I never thought you could be so soppy and sentimental!" Mal smirked, but he held out his arms to her.

Natara walked over and hugged her husband, then sat herself next to him on the couch. Soon after, Angela dropped the toy she was thumping on the floor and walked over to the couch. She held out her arms to her parents and gurgled happily.

Mal scooped up his daughter and sat her in-between him and his wife. She laughed and clapped her hand together, feeling safe and secure.

It was then that Natara noticed the bruises.

There were about five of them, small bluish circles in a perfect line down her arm.

"Mal!" Natara said, trying hard not to panic, "Mal, look!"

Mal turned his head and Natara lifted her daughter's arm so Mal could see the bruises.

"How did she get those?" Mal asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"I don't know! I mean, I know kids get bruises but not this many! And I swear they weren't there yesterday!"

"I know, I know. Let's try and stay calm."

Angie was now looking curiously at her parents, wondering what all the fuss was about.

Mal felt his concern growing. Bruises? From where? Certainly not from him or Natara. He knew that some diseases caused bruising, and…. no. She couldn't have that. No way. She was a perfectly healthy little girl. Well, she got colds and coughs a lot, but apart from that, nothing major. He couldn't bear to think of _that. _

He wrapped his arms around his wife and his daughter and hugged them tightly.

"It's fine. We'll be fine. I'm sure it's nothing major. Kids get bruises all the time. Let's just keep an eye on it."

Natara nodded glumly and buried her nose in her daughter's soft hair. She sincerely wished her husband was right. For all of them.

Especially for Angie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello there! I'd just like to make a shout-out to mozzi-girl! You. Are. Awesome. Kay? You always leave such great reviews that motivate me to write more! AND you're a great writer to boot! There are a LOT of great writers on here. I'd like to hope I'm one of them, but then again, maybe not. *Sigh* Low self-esteem. Anyways, enough of me! Enjoy! **

Chapter 2

The next few days seemed to pass in a blur. Natara found more bruises all along Angie's back, and a few on her leg, but she still remained as happy and mischievous as ever. Then, three days after Natara first discovered the bruises, both Mal and Natara noticed a change in their daughter. She was lethargic, irritable, and it seemed that she barely had the strength to hold her head up. It seemed that she was constantly crying, her tiny face screwed up, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Mal, who never failed to make her giggle and clap her hands in delight, could barely charm a smile out of her. It was clear that Angela was not well at all.

"Mal, we need to do something." Natara said to her husband, cradling her grizzling daughter in her arms.

"I know, I know," Mal replied, looking stricken, "I'm going to ring the doctor's right now."

Mal picked up the phone and dialled the number, looking anxious. All the while Natara tried to comfort Angela, bouncing her up and down in the way that always seemed to cheer her up before. It wasn't working this time, and Natara felt like crying herself.

"Hi. It's Mr Fallon here. Yeah. Cold you put me through to Dr Taunton please? Sure. I'll hold."

There was an agonizing minute-long pause, before Mal spoke again.

"Hi Dr Taunton. It's Mr Fallon here. Yeah. It's my daughter Angela. She… she isn't well at all. She's tired all the time, constantly crying, doesn't want to eat. We reckon she's running a fever."

There was another pause, and Natara heard the deep tones of their family doctor speaking to Mal, although she couldn't quite make out what Dr Taunton was saying.

"Yes," Mal continued, "And, um, she's been getting these bruises on her. Yeah. Bruises. Uh, on her back, her arms, her legs. Huh? About three days."

Natara tried to listen to Dr Taunton as he spoke, to try and gauge the tone of his voice, but, much to her frustration, she still couldn't make out what he was saying. What she could tell, however, was that Mals' hand was tightening on the phone so much that his knuckles were turning white. His face was pale.

"Are… are you sure? No, no, of course we will. Thank you. We'll do it right now. Yeah, ok. Bye."

Mal finished the call with a click and turned to his wife. He cleared his throat once, twice, and then began to speak.

"Dr Taunton wants us to take Angie straight to the hospital."

"Straight away? Shouldn't we have an appointment with him first?"

"No. He says he'll contact the hospital straight away to let them know we're on our way."

"Did he…. Did he tell you what he thought it may be?"

"No. But he sounded pretty concerned, especially when I mentioned the bruises. He said he shouldn't delay."

"Oh God, Mal, I'm worried."

"I know, I know. So am I, but we need to stay strong. Come on, let's go, Doctor's orders!"

Natara smiled weakly, and then followed Mal out of the front door to the car.

Once Angela was safely strapped into her car seat and they were on their way the hospital, Mal fought to keep the negative thoughts away. Along with the negative thoughts came memories. He tried to push them away too, but they were stubborn.

The bruises on his mother's arms.

His mother lying in that hospital bed, wasting away.

Him holding her hand, watching as she slowly closed her eyes, as her breathing slowed and then stopped.

As she died.

Mal shook himself and chastised himself viciously.

_No! No! Don't be so stupid. Angela may be ill, but she isn't nearly as ill as Mom was. _

_But the bruises… They both had bruises…_

_Stop it! Just…. Just stop it! Please. _

_How ironic, _an evil voice sneered inside Mal's head, _the same name. And they shall die the same way too…_

"SHUT UP, DAMMIT!" Mal shouted, banging his fist on the steering wheel.

Natara jumped and looked at Mal with wide eyes, and Angela, who had finally fallen asleep during the journey, was startled awake and began to cry again.

"Mal?"

Mal looked at his wife and gave a pained smile.

"Sorry. I'm just a little…. You know."

Natara nodded.

"I do know. But, like you said, we have to be strong for Angie. Look, we're nearly there, just the next right turn."

Mal pulled into the hospital parking lot, freed Angela from her car seat and followed his wife into the hospital reception. The pungent aroma of disinfectant, that smell unique to hospitals, seemed to permeate everything. It didn't make Mal feel any better, and it brought back painful memories.

Natara gave their names, and the receptionist, flashing them what Natara supposed was meant to be a reassuring smile, told them that Dr Finch was waiting for them in a room down the hall.

"I'm afraid that I will have to take some blood," Dr Finch informed Mal and Natara regretfully after examining Angela, "we could anaesthetise her if that would be better?"

"No, I think she's too tired to struggle much."

Mal was right. Dr Finch drew several vials of blood from Angela's arm, and she didn't make a sound. That worried Natara more than anything. Her silence. Her stillness.

_Too much. He's taking too much. _

Dr Finch met Natara's eyes, as if reading her thoughts, and smiled at her reassuringly.

"I am not taking so much that it will affect Angela in any way, Mrs Fallon. I am taking just enough to perform the number of tests that are needed."

"I know, I know. It's just…"

"I understand," Dr Finch said soothingly, "these samples have been put on the rapid response list, which means that we shall get the results back much sooner than we usually would."

_Rapid response list? But that sounds so…. Serious. _

"Angela is indeed running a fairly high fever, and she seems to have some joint and bone pain, which is of course not normal for a child so young. Also, the bruises tell me that something is not normal. While we are waiting for the results, I am referring you to see Dr Landwick upstairs."

"And… what sort of doctor is Dr Landwick?"

Dr Finch smiled sadly.

"She is a peadiatric Oncologist."

"On…. Oncologist?"

No. It couldn't be.

"Yes. Dr Landwick specialises in cancer."

**Meh. Not my best chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, my lovely readers! Thank you for all your reviews! It's what motivates me to write, since I don't think I'm actually that good of a writer, but you seem to think so! **

**Anyways, here's chapter 3! **

_Cancer. _

The word . _That _word. The word Mal and Natara both dreaded to hear. It was such an _ugly, terrible _word.

"C….cancer?" Mal spluttered, tightening his arms around his daughter.

Dr Finch smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes. I'm afraid Angela's symptoms are indicative of some sort of cancer. I have my ideas of what sort, but I can't make a diagnosis, since I am only a general paediatrician, not a specialist. Dr Landwick will be able to give you the information you need."

Mal felt numb as they both shook Dr Finch's hand and left his office. Cancer. No, please, anything but that. He didn't think he could handle going through it again. Angela was now fast asleep in her father's arms, unaware of the fact that her entire life could change in the space of the next few minutes.

Both Mal and Natara felt as if time itself was suspended. Natara was aware of something, something like…. _Fear…. _holding her heart in a vice grip. She knew Mal could feel the same cold pressure.

The walk upstairs to Dr Landwicks' office seemed to take an eternity. Mal felt as if his feet were encased in concrete blocks. Finally, they came to a door, upon which a plaque stated, _Dr Clarissa Landwick; Consultant Paediatric Oncologist. _

Mal looked at Natara, and their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them. Natara seemed to steel herself, before she reached out and rapped smartly on the door.

"Come in!" called a voice from within.

Mal and Natara obliged, pushing open the door to see a slim, middle aged woman, donned in a white coat, sitting behind a rather imposing mahogany desk. She looked up from a sheaf of papers she was reading and smiled.

"Ah, Mr and Mrs Fallon. Take a seat."

Natara couldn't remember a chair feeling as comfortable as the one she sank into now. She was grateful for the support it provided.

Dr Landwick wasted no time with small talk. She clearly felt it was not needed, nor wanted.

"I understand your daughter Angela has been presenting with some alarming symptoms." Dr Landwick said, gazing at Angela with her startlingly green eyes.

"Uh, yes. We have been a little concerned." Natara agreed, suddenly noticing that her throat was very dry.

"I won't beat around the bush, Mrs Fallon. The symptoms your daughter is presenting point towards cancer. Obviously my colleague Dr Finch believed this to be the case as well; otherwise he would not have referred you to me. We shall get the results of Angela's blood tests within the next few minutes, and then we'll be able to move on from there."

Nobody said anything in reply.

Dr Landwick smiled again, and the sympathy was clear in her voice as she spoke again;

"I understand you must be very anxious. Please believe me when I say Angela is in the best possible place. I have been working this job for over 15 years and have seen countless couples in the same situation as you. If the worst comes to the worst, then she is in the best possible hands."

Mal gave a pained smile.

"Yeah. We know, we know."

Dr Landwick fished a pair of glasses from the pocket of her coat and placed them on the edge of her nose. She turned to her computer and began typing rapidly before pausing to look at Mal.

"What is Angela's full name?"

"Angela Marie Fallon."

"Ok. Date of birth?"

"April the 16th 2013"

"Normal pregnancy? Normal birth?"

"Yes, totally fine." This was Natara speaking now.

"Any…" Dr Landwicks' words were cut off as there was a knock on the door.

"Ah, that'll be the results."

_So quick….._ Natara thought. She didn't know whether to be pleased with how quickly things were moving or saddened at how swiftly her daughter's future would be decided.

"Come in!"

A tall, skinny man who, Mal noted offhandedly, very closely resembled Kai Kalaba, except for the colour of his hair, strode into the room, handed Dr Landwick a single sheet of paper and then strode out again, white coat flapping.

He didn't look at Mal, Natara, or Angela.

Dr Landwick scanned the piece of paper swiftly. She clearly knew what she was looking for. After a few seconds she slowly placed the piece of paper on the desk in front of her, removed her glasses and turned to the couple before her. This time, Natara's deducing skills failed. She had no idea whether the news was good or bad. Dr Landwicks' face was impassive, a mask she had no doubt honed and perfected throughout her years as a cancer specialist.

Mal couldn't stand the silence, couldn't bear it.

"Well?"

"Mr and Mrs Fallon, I'm afraid that the news isn't good. Angela's white blood cell level is very high. The white blood cells themselves are underdeveloped, and appear to be growing out of control."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, I am afraid to say, that Angela has leukaemia."

No. The one word Mal had been dreading. Not leukaemia. He was stunned into silence. Natara was also speechless, and her eyes shined with tears. His daughter. A cancer sufferer.

"More specifically, Angela has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia. It's the most common form of leukaemia in children."

Was that supposed to help? Make them feel any better? Hey, your kid has cancer, but don't worry, loads of other kids have it as well!

"There is some evidence to support the idea that ALL can be hereditary, although that's not yet been proven 100% definitively. Otherwise, it's nothing that you've done. It is, unfortunately, just an unlucky twist of fate. May I ask whether there is a history of Leukaemia in the family?"

Natara shook her head, but then looked at Mal.

"Uh… yes actually, there is," Mal said, speaking slowly because he felt like babbling incoherently, "my… my mother died from it."

Dr Landwick nodded glumly.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr Fallon."

"It's okay, it was years ago."

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't ok. He wrapped his arms tighter around his still sleeping daughter. He imagined he could feel the cancer through her skin, feel it running rampant throughout her tiny body. Oh, how he wished he could take her place. He'd lived his life, done what he wanted to do. Bought the T-shirt, etc. Angela was just 14 months old. A baby. It felt as if her life was ending before it had even begun.

Dr Landwick must have seen the anguish of Mal and Natara's faces, for she reached over her desk and placed her hand on Mal and Natara's shoulder in turn.

"I understand you must be thinking the worst. Everyone does when they hear the word cancer. But the survival rate among ALL is high, and gets higher the youngest you are diagnosed. Angela has her age on her side, and like I said, she couldn't be in a better place."

"What is the survival rate, exactly?"

"Among adults? Around 50%. Because the cancer is acute, it means that the white blood cells are developing out of control and very quickly. The white blood cells push everything else out of the bone marrow, which causes the bruising, as well as the other symptoms. We will need to start treatment fairly rapidly to give Angela the best chance. But, with chemotherapy, the survival rate among children with ALL is quite good, around 80%."

"And what if chemotherapy doesn't work?"

"Then a bone marrow transplant will be needed. But the odds are, thankfully, stacked against that option."

80%... That sounded great when you put it like that. But that left 20% who didn't get better. 20% who died. What if Angela was in that unfortunate 20% of children? What if it went away, but then came back when she was an adult? When she only had a 50% chance? So many questions. So many what ifs….. Natara felt like sobbing, but then remembered her promise. Her promise to stay strong. They were not the ones with cancer. If they lost control, surrendered themselves to misery and despair, what chance would their daughter have?

Certainly less than 80%. Less than 50%.

She would have no chance at all.

**:'( **


End file.
